Editorial

The launch of the Census 2027 population count, with caste enumeration included for the first time since Independence, has been presented as a historic correction. Self-enumeration has already begun in Jammu & Kashmir and Ladakh. On the surface, the exercise promises richer data for policy. Beneath it lies a troubling ambiguity: India has no reliable mechanism to determine caste exactly.

Caste is not a fixed biological or administrative category that can be measured like age or literacy. It is a fluid social construct, shaped by region, community perception, endogamy, and political claim. The last comprehensive caste census occurred in 1931. Since then, only Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes have been enumerated with relative clarity because they rest on constitutional lists. Expanding the net to all castes without a transparent verification protocol invites subjectivity on a national scale.

Self-enumeration compounds the problem. When individuals or households fill forms themselves, the incentive to inflate numbers for reservation benefits or political leverage is obvious. Who will check the claim of a family that records itself as belonging to a particular Other Backward Class or a newly asserted intermediate caste? Field staff lack both the training and the legal authority to adjudicate identity. Courts have repeatedly struggled with caste certificates; a national census cannot afford the same uncertainty multiplied by millions.

The government’s silence on methodology is telling. Will there be documentary proof requirements? Will local officials cross-check against existing databases? Will disputes be resolved before data is locked? These questions remain unanswered. The ambiguity is not accidental. Precise caste data can upend existing quota formulas, fuel fresh demands, and intensify competitive identity politics. Leaving the process fuzzy allows the state to collect numbers while postponing the harder political choices about how those numbers will be used.

Accuracy is not a technical detail; it is the foundation of legitimacy. Flawed caste figures risk hardening social divisions rather than informing equitable policy. They may also undermine trust in the census itself, an institution that has long provided the factual backbone of Indian governance. Caste enumeration can serve a public purpose only if it is conducted with scientific rigour and institutional honesty. At present, the process begins with a fundamental gap: the absence of any credible mechanism to determine caste exactly. Ambition without method is not progress. It is a recipe for contested data and prolonged social friction.

Bangladesh Prime Minister Tarique Rahman’s declaration that he will not visit India until Sheikh Hasina is extradited marks a sharp hardening of Dhaka’s position. New Delhi’s measured response—that the matter will be decided by Indian courts even as diplomatic talks continue—reveals the difficult balance India must now strike. The episode is less about one individual and more about the future architecture of a relationship that has grown strained since the political upheaval in Bangladesh.

Hasina’s presence in India has become a potent political symbol in Bangladesh. For the new government, securing her extradition is framed as a question of justice and sovereignty. For India, any decision involves legal process, precedent, and the risk of appearing to abandon a long-standing partner who sought refuge. Courts, not cabinets, are the proper forum for such determinations. India’s insistence on judicial handling is therefore constitutionally sound. Yet diplomacy rarely waits for legal timelines. By tying a high-level visit to a judicial outcome, Dhaka has converted a bilateral irritant into a public test of political will.

The linkage strategy carries risks for both sides. For Bangladesh, conditioning engagement on a single demand could limit the space for cooperation on trade, connectivity, water sharing, and security—areas where mutual interests remain substantial. For India, prolonged uncertainty over Hasina’s status may complicate efforts to rebuild trust with a neighbour whose internal politics have shifted dramatically. A transactional approach, in which every diplomatic step is held hostage to one issue, rarely produces stable outcomes in South Asia. India’s dual-track approach—judicial process alongside quiet diplomacy—is prudent. It preserves the integrity of legal institutions while signalling openness to dialogue. Dhaka, for its part, would do well to recognise that sustained engagement, rather than absolute preconditions, offers the more productive path. Regional stability, counter-terrorism coordination, and economic interdependence cannot be subordinated indefinitely to the fate of one individual, however politically charged.

Bilateral relations between India and Bangladesh have historically rested on pragmatism more than ideology. Restoring that pragmatism will require both governments to manage domestic pressures without allowing them to dictate the entire relationship. Extradition is a serious legal question. It should not become the sole measure of diplomatic possibility. The space for dialogue must remain open even when the courts are still deliberating.

• SAS Kirmani